I missed you
by ARedRedRose
Summary: Follow-up to 'Did you miss me'. Sherlock and John discover each other's bodies for the first time. Explicit.


I missed you …

Disclaimer: Characters are not my own … they belong to Mark Gattis, Steven Moffatt and the BBC.

AN: Follow-up to "Did you miss me?"

Sherlock and John had passed the evening after Moriarty's 'Did you miss me?' message holding each other close, John determined not to let Sherlock retreat to an emotionally detached existence, Sherlock clinging to the comfort that John offered him so freely.

As the evening wore on however, reality called at both John and Sherlock. Mary would be expecting John. Well, expecting him at some time of the night. She had quickly become accustomed to the erratic nature of John's work with Sherlock, and understood that conventional hours did not apply. John messaged Mary. 'On a case with Sherlock. See you tomorrow x'. He was in no rush to leave Sherlock. Not tonight.

John sat back in his own armchair. It was still his, despite the fact that he no longer lived at 221B Baker Street. The room was where they saw clients, Sherlock contemplated, and John contributed his 'ordinary man' perspective and kept the paperwork up-to-date.

John looked across at Sherlock. Sherlock looked worn, but calm – relaxed by the company of his favourite companion. John examined him, unnoticed. His tousled hair, sculpted cheekbones and soft lips. He knew they were soft because he'd kissed them earlier. Really? He'd surprised himself. But something drew him to Sherlock, and it seemed, Sherlock to him. John closed his eyes briefly, before opening them to resume his visual examination. His sharp, tailored shirt showed his slim torso. Even at this hour he was impeccably dressed. How he'd like to ruffle up that smooth exterior. Whoa, thought John, closing his eyes again. Where is this going, he wondered? Where did he want it to go? Where should he let it go?

Sherlock looked over to John. What was going through his mind? They'd kissed earlier. John had reciprocated. Sherlock had melted in John's arms. But now, John seemed to have given Sherlock the once over. John's breathing had intensified. He looked enticing.

This time, Sherlock crossed the fire to John, knelt in front of him, placing both hands on one knee. "Sherlock?" John questioned. "Shh" replied Sherlock, mentally asking him to lie back in his armchair. John obliged as Sherlock moved his hands inquisitively over John's thighs. He stretched up to kiss him once again, whispering "tell me if this is too much", before moving his hands and lips across John's torso and down towards his crotch. Sherlock could sense John's excitement, and gently unclasped John's belt and opened his flies. Sherlock freed John's erection from his underwear and stroked gently up the length of his shaft. He placed a hand on John's torso and licked where his hand had just stroked.

John shuddered. There was something delicious about Sherlock's mouth licking his cock. Had other people seen something in his and Sherlock's relationship all these years when it became a standing joke that they were "not a couple" and that John was "not gay"? Had his marriage to Mary not removed any lingering doubt? Apparently not. John went with the sensation. Delicious and intimate. God, Sherlock was hot. He took his whole length in his mouth. John held back for a moment, for he was ready to thrust against that beautiful wet mouth. "Don't stop" John mouthed, only just audibly.

Sherlock quivered. John wanted him, and he wanted John to come in his mouth. He moved gently over his hard cock, thinking what he might enjoy, where he'd like to be licked and sucked. Before he knew what was happening John called out "Sherlock, I …". I know, thought Sherlock, indicating his agreement by pressing his mouth more firmly over John's cock.

John was overwhelmed, physically and emotionally. Sherlock placed his head gently on his lap and John stroked his hair. God, I love you Sherlock, he thought.

Sherlock rose and led John to his bedroom. He carefully removed John's and his clothing, before laying down beside him, covering him gently with the duvet and wrapping his arms and legs around him before they both drifted off to sleep.

John awoke at 6:03am with Sherlock wrapped around him. He gently moved him away and headed to the bathroom to relieve himself. When he returned Sherlock was still sleeping soundly, more soundly he suspected than he had for some time. John put aside his doubts, snuggled back into bed and allowed himself to drift back to sleep.

The next time he looked at the clock it was 7:21am. Sherlock lay close against his back, but was rousing. John felt his morning erection gently pressed against him. John's breath quickened again. His mind was wandering. It was one thing to let Sherlock give him a blowjob, but was he really contemplating returning the favour? Hell, yes. And before he could doubt his conviction, he turned around quickly, and let his mouth work its way over Sherlock's delightful frame. "Good morning" he murmured as he arrived at Sherlock's now full-erect cock. Taking the lower part in one hand, he placed a gentle kiss on the upper part. Sherlock felt delightful. He wanted him in his mouth too. Very much. He placed his mouth over Sherlock's cock and closed his eyes. He felt heady with the thought of pleasuring him, and began to suck and lick harder and harder.

Sherlock was in a dream. Surely? He'd never had sex with anyone until now. Anyone but himself that is. Too bloody self-obsessed to even contemplate the idea that anyone could get to know his own body better than he could. And here he was, on the receiving end of a delightful blowjob. Made exquisite by the fact that it was from John.

Sherlock held himself back. He wanted to savour the experience. Note the subtle but definite impact it was having on his brain as well as his body. Feel the depths of John's wet mouth, his hunger and longing translated into demanding sucks and kisses. Before he knew it he was at the edge. Would John want him to finish in his mouth? John held his cock as Sherlock tried to move gently away. It would seem so.

John lay back, swallowed and licked his lips. Wow. Sherlock on his lips, in more ways than one.

He moved slowly back beside him, and looked quietly into Sherlock's eyes, wondering what he would see. Pleasure, relief and maybe a touch of anxiety about what was going to happen next. When it came to understanding these emotions, Sherlock wouldn't have a clue!


End file.
